Drops of Orbo
by katie janeway
Summary: New ficlet/drabble collection. Starting with some older ones that originally debuted on my LJ, then will hopefully add new ones as time goes by.
1. A GreenStained Floor

**A Green-Stained Floor**

_Disclaimer: Witch Hunter Robin is the property of Sunrise and Bandai and I wouldn't think of it being any other way. This work is purely for fun, not profit._

_Post-series_

She felt the echo of him still. Felt him in the back of her mind, knowing he wasn't real, that he didn't exist. But she wished he did. Wished the dream had become a reality, wished the fantasy had come to life.

She heard his calls in her sleep, where she could answer them. Saw his eyes, staring into hers, and the future that had never really existed, the one she felt she'd been ripped from.

She still heard cries and shouts and cowered in their apartment, the one they'd filled with dreams they knew could not come true. And she still touched the stain on the floor, that odd place they'd left behind, when one of their amulets had cracked. It always remained slightly damp, slightly green...a reminder of what she'd lost.


	2. The Eye Exam

**The Eye Exam**

_Could be during or post-series – after all, prescriptions sometimes need updates!_

"Cover your right eye for me, please." She complied and followed the next set of directions. She read the chart, followed the finger and the light, and was, in general, a compliant patient.

She did the same for the left eye. And with both eyes open.

In fact, she was one of the most compliant patients the doctor had ever seen. Except for...well, two complaints.

She seemed to have some difficulty with allowing drops to be put into her eyes. But that was normal, and he'd seen far worse. He could recall a child patient that had to be held down and then cried out the drops anyway...

His other complaint though...he was bothered enough to pull aside the girl's older brother while the order was being written for her new eyeglasses, and she was paying for the appointment.

The girl had a serious problem with pyromania. She'd smuggled a lighter in, and occasionally, he'd caught sight of the small flames dancing in the palm of her hand, just after he'd asked her to perform a task. Thankfully, the fire alarm had not gone off, but she had not desisted when asked. Rather than causing a larger scene than was probably advisable with this girl, he'd finished the exam anyway.

Next time, however, if he saw her again...well, he hoped her brother would get her the help she needed or he would be forced to act.


	3. Green

Green**  
**_Post-series_

It was a strange tune, in his mind. One that was half-remembered, half-created. And the only word that ever was discernable was green...a color that both soothed and terrified him. A color that belonged in Robin's eyes, pools of light and warmth that contrasted sharply with the pale, cold green he used to wear around his neck. Orbo.

He'd tried to determine why it should be green, found it ironic that it flared with light when a Witch attacked, just as Robin's eyes would flare before those flames emerged. He wasn't a scientist, so he couldn't say for sure why it was green, but it felt wrong. It was cold and represented death. Robin's eyes represented life. Green was the color of life, and Robin...

_Green, green_, sang the voice in his head. Green liquid, green fire, green grass, green faces...

_Green, green..._Green money, green cars, green lights...but green eyes and green grass and green drops, those were important. He struggled to hold onto them.

_Green, green..._Green meets green meets green...and they all swirled in his mind until they were cold, dark...empty. Green and empty. Clear as glass - no cloud, no light, no fire. Just...green.


	4. Painful Empathy

**Painful Empathy**

_Post-series_

She had forgotten the headaches. The rushes of pain that had left her nauseous and overwhelmed when her Craft first showed signs of emerging. The feelings, not her own, that had continually surged over her as she touched an object or shook a hand. The massive strain it took to learn to focus the energy. Eventually, she learned, and gloves made life easier still, containing her Craft until she was ready to use it.

But oh, the headaches. She had forgotten them. Now, she longed for them, longed for the surge of power as her Craft awoke. Pain would be better than this, this _weakness_. The fog that clouded her mind and dulled everything about her. Once more, she no longer knew her own feelings, but this time, they were lost in a shroud of exhaustion, woven by her strained attempts to use her fading power. Life was becoming empty, dull...and behind the weariness was the undeniable truth, always lurking, of what would happen to her if she was no longer useful.

She longed to have headaches again.


End file.
